


Witch One

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Female Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 11:38:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20257495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Crowley didn't mean to get locked up. Fortunately, a certain angel is aware of her predicament.





	Witch One

The job should have been simple. A few sick sheep, generate some general unhappiness, get out of town. But to Crowley’s dismay there had been talk of witches, and then an arrest. Betella’s only real crime seemed to be that she’d had her daughter out of wedlock and was raising her alone. Crowley could hardly let her face judgment, but her attempt at intervening had only led to all three of them being locked up.

Pulling some kind of demonic trick to get them out of the arrest would have only made things worse, and so they’d been detained in this small building on the edge of a churchyard. Crowley could feel it, like a toothache, all sharp pin pricks if she moved too close to the high window. 

The bastards had locked up Maggie, Betella’s daughter, with them. The little girl was scared, but trying not to show it. Crowley had told her stories to help pass the time, some of the things left out of the official bible, but nothing too scandalous. Betella listened, but didn’t say much, seemingly tired and resigned to her fate.

After the first night, when Maggie was asleep, she’d urged Crowley that if there was some way to escape, to do so, and take Maggie with her. Crowley had promised that all three of them were going to find a way out.

It had been three days now, and they’d been told an official witchfinder had been sent for. Crowley wasn’t quite sure what she could even say to their inevitable questions. Cavorting with demons? Well yes, that was something she did, but as little as she could get away with. 

She paced the cell and winced as she got too close to the church. Outside she could just see the steeple against the night sky. Surely there had to be some angle she’d missed, some way to get all of them safely out and past the guards.

Suddenly there were voices outside the cell, coming closer. Crowley leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, heart beating faster than she’d admit.

“This is rather irregular,” said the voice of the mayor of the village.

“Is it? Do you get a lot of witchfinders here?” The second voice was familiar in a way that made her heart leap. But how could it be?

“Well, no. But surely this could wait until dawn.”

“I do know what I’m doing.” There was the sound of keys being handed over. “Leave us, go on back to your bed.”

There was hesitation, but then the mayor’s footsteps retreated. A few moments later there was the heavy sound of someone falling to the floor.

Crowley smirked at the sound, then held his breath as the key turned in the lock and the door swung open. There, as if by miracle, stood Aziraphale, dressed like a witch hunter, down to the somewhat ridiculous hat on his head.

Betella sat up, clearly afraid, shifting her child behind her.

“It’s alright,” said Crowley. 

“You seem to have got yourself into a… what’s the phrase… a pickle?” Aziraphale couldn’t help a playful smile.

“Something like that, yes,” grumbled Crowley. “Don’t worry about me, can you get these two somewhere safe?”

Aziraphale’s smile slipped as he looked at Betella. “Yes, of course. Come with me.” He offered his hand.

Betella looked at Crowley. Crowley nodded. “He’s a… friend,” he said, knowing how Aziraphale usually felt about that word.

Fortunately, this time Aziraphale didn’t argue the point, just helped them to their feet. He looked at Crowley. “Meet you at the Hoops and Spoke?” he asked.

“I’ll be there,” promised Crowley, waiting until Aziraphale had ushered the pair out before she moved.

Crowley passed the unconscious guard and hurried out of the building, shaking off the last traces of holy ground. Looking around and finding herself alone, she spread her wings and stretched, then hid them again. She hurried off into the night, trusting Aziraphale would see Betella and Maggie to safety. Much better for them to be in the company of an angel, rather than the demon who’d already got them arrested once.

Dawn found her reaching the inn. She straightened her clothes and pushed open the door. The place was nearly empty, just a few people yawning their way through breakfast. Crowley ordered a plate and sat down in a back corner where she could see the door.

Aziraphale came in a short time later, thankfully dressed in his more normal clothing. He spotted Crowley and walked over, not quite hurrying. Crowley pushed the plate of food over as he sat down.

Crowley knew she should say thank you, but, well, if hell ever found out, or heaven, for that matter, things might not go well for either of them. 

“Betella and Maggie are safe,” said Aziraphale. “They’ve got a bit of money and a place to start over,” 

“Good.” Crowley sipped her drink. “The witch thing is nonsense anyway. Humans always want to blame everyone else for their problems.”

“But you _were_ there for demonic mischief,” said Aziraphale, glancing at her then back to his plate.

“Well, okay, yes. But no need to go dragging an innocent woman into it, let alone a child.”

“They do seem to blame women much of the time,” acknowledged Aziraphale.

“Should I ask how you happened to show up?” asked Crowley, slouching back.

“Oh, I heard something about a witch arrest,” shrugged Aziraphale.

Crowley knew from experience that Aziraphale didn’t want to talk about it any more than she did. They’d been dancing around this… whatever this was for centuries, after all. And if demons were bad at dancing, angels were even worse.

Aziraphale finished his breakfast and pushed the plate away. “I’ve got a room and I know we were both traveling all night, come on.”

Crowley didn’t question it, just followed Aziraphale up the stairs and down the narrow hall. He pushed open the door and offered Crowley his hand. Crowley took it, closing the door behind them and letting Aziraphale draw her over to the bed.

Settling down, Crowley found herself exhausted. Being that close to a churchyard for that long was dangerous. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around her and quietly let his wings free, covering Crowley with one. One might think that a demon being held by an angel would burn, but quite the opposite. It was a balm to her aching bones. “Rest,” Aziraphale said gently. “I know you’re tired.”

Nodding, Crowley closed her eyes. Aziraphale held her a little closer. Just as she nodded off she felt Aziraphale kiss her cheek, so gently she might have been imagining it. She was safe, guarded by the Angel of the Eastern Gate himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to a studyinfic and beltainefaerie for reading along and beltainefaerie for the beta
> 
> You can find me on twitter and tumblr at merindab


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